It Was That Stupid Look's Fault
by justametaphor
Summary: Puck and Quinn didn't talk a lot the night of Mike Chang's birthday party, but sometimes a look says a million words. Sorry, I suck a summaries- its about how Drizzle came to be pretty much.


It started at a party. Matt Rutherford's parents were in Hawaii on a second honeymoon or something, so it seemed like the perfect opportunity to through a surprise party for Mike Chang's sweet 16. Everyone had crouched behind sofas and chairs and yelled 'SURPRISE' when Mike walked in and they had a cake for him but other than that it was a pretty normal high school party. Pretty much everyone was clutching red plastic cups, dancing to the insanely loud music- good thing Matt didn't have a lot of neighbors- and just being high school kids. Quinn was totally sick of it after 45 minutes.

Quinn had had one of the worse days of her life (so far). Her mother had spent all of breakfast commenting on what she was eating. _You're having two pieces of toast Quinny!_ and _My, my where do you put it all_ had rung through her mind all day. Then Santana had spent all of Cheerios practice talking about how she'd have to get the team's seamstress to bring in her uniform because she'd lost eight pounds. Even the Rachel Berry mySpace video had made Quinn feel fat; she looked like a twig, and that was _with_ the camera adding ten pounds. All Quinn had wanted to do was go home and go to sleep but no, she'd had to come to this stupid party. And Finn was her ride and she had no idea where he even was so she couldn't go home. He was probably doing something dumb with his stupid jock friends.

Quinn wandered outside. Matt had a big pool a little ways off from the house, and if had been warmer out Quinn was sure that was where the main action of the party would've taken place. But it was a weirdly cold day considering the time of year so the party was completely house bound. Quinn tugged her black cardigan down around her hands and wrapped it around herself. She didn't care about the cold, as long as it got her as far away from the much to loud music and the much to skinny girls that were everywhere she looked in Matt's house. Quinn folded herself onto a deck chair, legs under her and leaned her head back.

Maybe she'd just go to sleep and forget the whole stupid day. It was a pretty appealing notion. Finn would probably just go home without her and she hadn't been drinking so she could call her parents for a ride. Maybe she'd call her dad though. She was wearing a loose green dress and her mom might mention something about it being a 'fat girl' dress.

There were footsteps behind her. She didn't want anyone to interrupt her now. She didn't want random kids hooking up three feet from her or one of the stupid jocks making sex jokes or some girl spreading a rumor at school Monday about what a freak Quinn had been at Mike's birthday party. It was to late now though. Quinn didn't even turn her head to see who it was; she just sat there.

"Hey" was all he said, taking the deck chair next to her's.

"Hi Puck". She thought about being mean to him. They didn't have a very close relationship or anything but he was Finn's best friend so she figured she'd make the effort.

"Why are you out here?" He didn't say it in a mean way, just a curious one. It made her open her eyes and look at him.

Something in his face, Quinn didn't know what it was, but it was something she hadn't seen before in anyone's face, let alone Noah Puckerman's face, made her just want to be honest "I had a bad day. I didn't really want to come to this stupid party but I figured it was Mike's birthday-"

"And you're such good friend's with Mike"

"And Finn wanted to come-"

"You don't need to do everything with Finn you know."

She glared at him. She **had** been trying to be nice. "Look," she barked at him "I had a bad day. I really don't need anyone making it any worse. So just go."

"Calm down. I was just trying to say that you didn't need to come if you didn't want to, its not like anyone would've cared."

She wanted to punch him. Was he actually being serious? No one would've cared?! Was he really saying no one cared about her?

She stood up. She would not under any circumstances stay with this pig. She'd find Finn- maybe he was playing video games? Or by the keg? - and get the hell out of here.

"Hey," he was faster than her, and before she realized what was going on he was in front of her, each hand holding her just above the elbow. He tried to look into her eyes- she wouldn't let him. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

What the hell was going on? Why the hell was Noah Puckerman being _nice_ to her? Noah Puckerman wasn't nice, not by a long shot.

"Can you just let go? I want to go home." She tried to keep walking but his hands kept her firmly in place.

"Let me take you. This party kind of blows anyway." He was still trying to look into her eyes but there was no way Quinn was going to let him. She steadfastly stared at the spot beneath on the ground beyond his crooked elbow.

"No, Finn brought me, he'll worry." It was lie. Finn wouldn't worry; he probably wouldn't even remember he brought Quinn. Besides, he definitely could not hold his booze and Quinn didn't really want to get puked on, a definite possibility considering the amount of alcohol she'd seen him in just the short time they'd spent together before he gone off in the crowd.

"Quinn, seriously just let me bring you home." His grip tightened a little on her arms. It didn't hurt or anything but it definitely made her realize that he really wanted this.

This was crazy. If she'd drunk anything that night she would've thought that it was all a vodka and beer induced dream but she was totally sober. But here was Puck- Puck! - being nice to her. Wanting (really clearly wanting) to drive her home? It was like he'd been replaced with some other person because Puck wasn't a nice guy who'd just drive some random girl- a girl he had zero chance of hooking up with –home.

They'd been walking toward the street and toward Puck's black truck. She hadn't even agreed but all of a sudden there they were and he was opening the driver side door and getting in. She stared up at him. "You're drunk. I'm not getting in a car with some drunk driving."

"Babe"- did he really just call her babe? Who was this kid? - "I haven't had anything all night. I've got my own stuff." He patted the wine coolers that sat on seat next to him.

"Going to go drink in you're room by yourself? That's one of the first sign of alcoholism." But Quinn was still maneuvering around the parked cars, opening Puck's truck door and climbing in. He didn't answer her.

They didn't talk on the way to her house except for her giving him some directions. But he pulled up to her house he grabbed her arm again, right above the elbow- the heat of his thumb was burning her- and asked "You sure you want to go home? Its like 9:15…on a Friday."

She turned back and looked at him (she'd forgotten not to- she didn't even know why she wouldn't before at Matt's). His eyes were big and brown and they still had that something in them that had made her tell him she'd had a bad day and not just given him some snide comment when they were by the pool.

"It's 9:24."

"Oooo, that is pretty late. Mommy and daddy Fabray will worry."

The mention of her mom made Quinn stiffened. She wondered what her mom would say if she got back this early. Some veiled comment about how popular she had been in high school and what a loser Quinn clearly was. And what if they say her get out of some random boys truck? She really did not need another purity talk, not today. Maybe she should've just stayed at the party.

"I- what are you gonna do?" she asked. She didn't want to betray her desperation to get the hell away from her house as fast as possible but it looked like Puck got it.

They ended up getting going through the drive-thru at McDonald's. Puck said he was hungry, and even though Quinn didn't feel like putting more calories in her system she figured she could just get a salad and it wouldn't be a big deal.

Puck got her a milkshake too. She felt like such a joke, eating a 'healthy' salad and a 800 calorie shake at the same time, but the wine cooler Puck mixed into it made her feel a little better. It didn't make her feel skinnier, but it made less of a big deal that she was fat.

It wasn't until Quinn had finished her salad, shake, and another wine cooler that she realized they weren't in the McDonald's parking lot anymore.

"I thought maybe we could just hang out at my house. I don't know... I didn't think you still wanted to go home and that party was totally lame." Puck was looking at her with that look- she didn't know what it meant. She didn't know if she wanted to know what it meant.

"Whatever" was all she said but she still followed into the little split-level, down some stairs to the basement and onto a red couch. Puck flipped on the TV. It was ESPN.

"I am not watching sports with you!" Quinn shrieked (why was her voice so loud?) and she made a movement for the remote. And missed. Two wine coolers wasn't a lot, but Quinn wasn't _that_ big of a girl.

Puck flipped to some reality show and opened another (or was it his first?) wine cooler. Quinn followed his lead. They sat there, watching some show and not talking, even though Quinn knew that this was the best time to have a very important conversation, even though she didn't know why.

"Puck?"

"Yeah Quinn?"

"Why are you being nice to me?" She wasn't nice to him. Quinn was barely nice to anyone, not unless it was for her own wellbeing. She wasn't nice to the girls on the Cheerios, or pretty much anyone at school, hell; she wasn't even that nice to her boyfriend. And here was this boy who was even crueler to her not making snide comments or laughing at her, but buying her food and giving her an escape from her parents and her life and not even pressuring her the way Finn always did.

He didn't say anything. He just looked at her. It was that dumb look. The one that made her want to be honest at Matt's. That made her get in his truck. That look that she couldn't even give a name, but it made her warm inside and happy and she just wanted him to look at her like that forever.

It was the look that made her move next to him on the couch. And the look that made her kiss him, not the wine coolers, but that something in his eyes. And there she was kissing him and he was sliding his hands down along her back and she didn't care because every time they broke away to get air the look in her eyes made her shiver and forget about Finn and Santana and her mom and celibacy club and everything else and just kiss him again.

The look made Quinn take Puck's shirt off. And that look was the only reason she felt excited when he unzipped her dress, not nervous. If he hadn't been giving her that look she would've protested them being there, on his couch, when she was in nothing but her bra and underwear, and him in just his jeans.

If he would just stop _looking_ at her Quinn was sure the haze in her head would lift and she'd be able to control what she was doing. But part of Quinn felt like it was right to reach down and unzip Puck's jeans. And it was that part of her, urged on by the look in his eyes that let him take her bra off. They'd barely talked that night but somehow Quinn managed to find her voice for just a second to blurt out "I'm a virgin".

He was still looking at her when he said, "I know".

Quinn had never really thought about sex before. She'd always been sort of transfixed on the lead up- what she would and wouldn't let a boy do and how she'd say no and how it would be different when she finally had a wedding band around her finger. She'd never thought it was that big of deal to just say no and she couldn't understand why anyone else would think it was. But now she knew. Because there was a part, a huge part, all right just about all, of Quinn that was enjoying this.

When it was over and Puck wasn't moving on top of her she didn't think about what just happened. Because Puck was lying next to her on the couch- their bodies were so close- and his arms were around her and was he stroking her hair or was she imagining it?

Then it hit her. What she had done. Oh God what had she done? Quinn struggled to get up, her blonde hair flying behind her as she tried to get her bearings and her clothes.

"Wait" Puck said, once again, grabbed her arm, just above the elbow. "Stay. Please?" She should've said no. Quinn knew she should say no and go home and shower and forget that all of this had every happened. But she looked at him (big mistake) at that same damn look at her face, this look that made her feel like he wanted her, he really wanted her, more than anything else and exactly the way she was and she thought, "What the hell? I've already ruined everything." She lay back down on the couch next to him. His body was warm and she wanted to succumb to sleep but before she did Quinn needed to see the look one last time. She flipped around to face him. It was right there, in his eyes. It wasn't until he fell asleep and his face went to neutral that Quinn could pull herself away and try to go back, back before the night of Mike Chang's birthday party.


End file.
